


conflict of interest

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: The Bold Type
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 13:43:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12343842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: Jane isn't working at Scarlet, she can't stop thinking about her stupid-hot boss, runs into her, and gay shit happens.





	conflict of interest

At times, Jane found herself idly scrolling through her contacts, back and forth just past C, before heading back up. She casually glided over the screen until she saw her name, slowly until she didn’t see it anymore. Occasionally, she attempted to write a text message, sometimes, she tried for an email. She accumulated a few drafts, but she’s yet to send anything.

 

It had been three months.

 

Three months of not walking through the familiar halls, past the glass bubble that was her office. Three months of not admiring whatever fabulous outfit she wore, three months of casually turning in her own chair just to catch a glimpse, of not nervously bouncing ideas off her and holding her breath while waiting for approval.

 

At first, Jane didn’t feel it so much. It was this dull, aftershock type of wave she’d sense somewhere in the back of her mind, but then some novelty would be presented to her like a shiny new work toy and she’d forget all about it. She was busy, getting to know her new coworkers, preoccupied with interest pieces that required all of her attention from morning till her head hit the pillow. But now she had the general grove of things and she was adjusting to her surroundings. She was relaxed, she had time to think.

 

Time to think was bad.

 

She couldn’t sleep much anymore and had taken up writing at night for the most part. It was quiet and she had no disruptions, but going on three weeks now she found more than once sitting at her desk, laptop open, Word document blank while she thumbed through her phone and stared at Jacqueline’s name.

 

It was 11 and she couldn’t stand the sight of her computer. Furthermore, she couldn’t stand her totally uncalled for thoughts of her former boss and the desire to hear her voice, maybe catch a glimpse of her over the top of her computer screen.

 

She thought of having a cup of tea to help her sleep—considered whiskey instead, but realized drinking alone in her apartment while she was in this ridiculous state was probably not the best idea and got dressed instead, heading straight for the new bar across the street. She had planned on checking it out with Sutton and Kat, so why not do a dry run. It was on the small side, just a short row of booths along the wall, and a bar of equal length two feet across. Old movie posters lined the walls and some rat packer sang off the jukebox in the corner. It was softly lit and cozy, like a speakeasy, minus the pretentiousness.

 

Jane ordered a drink; whiskey sour, and took a seat at the booth in the far end corner of the room. Only two others were taken, while the bar was full. Three songs and two Whiskey Sours later, her phone was in her palm again, her thumb doing that little dance over Jacqueline Carlyle’s name, her mind hazy enough to let her send some misguided message. The waitress came by just then and offered her services, momentarily directing Jane’s attention elsewhere. She ordered another, and just as the waitress had turned, the front door opened and jingled, and in walked Jacqueline; low-cut top, leather jacket, fitted jeans and knee-length Louboutin boots. Her inability to be normal-people casual was something Jane had always admired in Jacqueline, but she didn’t luxuriate in the appraisal of the woman as she had longed to do for weeks now because, well, she was not expecting to see her any time soon, or at all for that matter, and not while she was drunk and formerly contemplating drunk dialing her. She thought about ducking out, but Jacqueline spotted her before an attempt could be made, and anyway there seemed to be only one door.

 

Jacqueline seemed as surprised as Jane. She frowned at first, perplexed, and then smiled, slowly making her way. Jane was on her feet and halfway to greeting her before she even realized it.

 

“Jane!”

 

“Jacqueline, hi!” They hugged. Jane felt herself linger too long, taking an embarrassingly long whiff of the woman’s scent, still pretty fucking great, just as she remembered. “What are you doing here?” She asked, as they pulled apart.

 

“I was at a show in a warehouse up the street and needed a breather—some new up and comer trying very hard to be edgy and underground.”

 

Jane nodded, forced her eyes not to drop down the front of Jacqueline’s top. “Sounds fun.”

 

“Yeah,” Jacqueline snorted, turned toward the bar, ordered a vodka martini at no one in particular and turned back to Jane, “it’s so good to see you. Mind if I join you?”

 

“No, not at all, please.”

 

Jane watched Jacqueline take in her surroundings, her face lighting up as her eyes raked over the décor. Jane licked her lips. She couldn’t get this woman out of her head all night and now she was sitting in front of her. It was like her very own mental wish board becoming reality. There was no way that was a real thing, but right now she could buy into it.

 

“This place is neat,” Jacqueline said, met Jane’s gaze and made her bite her cheek with the intensity of it.

 

She had forgotten how just being in the same room with her made her entire body tense up.

 

“Do you live near here?”

 

“Yeah, I do. Across the street actually.”

 

“No, really? That’s so—what a coincidence. I have been thinking about you.”

 

Jane swallowed and stopped breathing. “You have?”

 

Their drinks arrived, the waitress made small talk with Jacqueline and Jane wanted to yell at her to leave so she could hear just how Jacqueline had been thinking of her and in what context.

 

“Mmm,” Jacqueline moaned approvingly as she sipped her martini. “This is so nice after the night I’ve had. I hope you don’t mind my hijacking yours, by the way.”

 

“No, I don’t mind you hijacking anything of mine. It’s so good to see you.”

 

Jacqueline smiled, cocked her head a little as she appeared to scan Jane’s features. “You too, Jane. Insight looks good on you.”

 

“Thank you. Underground fashion show attire looks— _really_ good on you.” She didn’t mean for it to sound as pervy as it did, but it was out now and Jane practically felt the color rise up to her cheeks as Jacqueline’s eyebrow raised to a sharp point. Whatever. It was out now. And after a brief moment of confusion, slash surprise, Jacqueline settled back, drink in her hand as she watched Jane’s expression change from that of utter shame and self-loathing to acceptance.

 

“Jane, are you drunk?”

 

“What? No! I mean, a little buzzed maybe but not drunk. I can pass a sobriety test for sure.”

 

“Alright, I believe you.” Jacqueline smirked into her glass, holding Jane’s gaze as she did so and then it was like before.

 

“So…you said you had been thinking about me? How so?”

 

“I did say that. I—have actually, and if you repeat this I will deny it, but I have been wondering if you finally decided to leave because I, I don’t know, failed you somehow. As a mentor.”

 

Jane laughed. She didn’t mean for it to happen but the ludicrousness of that idea was downright laughable. She worshipped Jacqueline until her last day at Scarlet and even now just reading her credited name in the magazine or in the Scarlet site made Jane feel warm inside. Leaning forward, Jane shook her head. “You’re kidding, right? Jacqueline. You’re—the most incredible woman I have ever met. You didn’t fail me. I think you’re amazing, and I have actually been thinking about you a lot too because—because—well, because I miss—I don’t know, being around you and basking in your superwoman awesomeness. You’re incredible. You could never fail me or disappoint me. As a mentor or—as anything else.”

 

Jacqueline’s gaze softened, her mouth opened a couple of times as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t. Instead, she gulped down her drink and sat up before scooting out of the booth. It was intense being on the receiving end of this version of the Carlyle stare. It was enthralling and intense, and it sucked Jane in so quickly she had not realized her breath had hitched. In this moment she knew, she _knew_ what the meaning of all this Jacqueline contemplating was all about; she realized it was more of a longing than just missing a casual acquaintance. She didn’t know if she’d bottled it up before, or blocked it somehow, but right then, Jane felt the full force of her attraction to Jacqueline Carlyle, physical and otherwise, and she had to press her knees together to keep from squirming in her seat under the weight of that damned stare.

 

Jacqueline’s lips parted once again, her tongue darted out and she licked them, and Jane thought she might pass out. Jacqueline appeared to ready herself to say something, she took a breath, leaned further over the table—the front door opened and Lauren burst in along with an entire entourage of model-esque individuals. Jacqueline looked, and then ducked, the moment interrupted and at least temporarily over. Jane had always liked Lauren and her affinity for green drinks, but just then she could have drained the life out of her with her bare hands.

 

“Shit,” Jacqueline said, half whispering, half laughing. “I told her I was going to the bathroom and never came back. You said you live across the street?”

 

“Yes,” Jane instantly replied, the promise of having Jacqueline all to herself was both terrifying and exhilarating. “Want to make a run for it?”

“Do you have alcohol there?” Jacqueline asked while pulling a fifty-dollar bill from her pocket and dropping it on the table.

 

“How dare you? Of course I do.”

 

“Okay. Tell me when.”

 

Jane watched and waited for Lauren to slide into a booth. With her posse crowding around her, they would be able to sneak past unnoticed if they hurried.

 

“Come on,” Jane said, gave no thought to grabbing Jacqueline by the hand and leading the way out the door in a hasty pace. They didn’t stop until they were across the street and Jane dropped Jacqueline’s hand only to unlock her door.

 

Inside, as she took in the apartment, Jacqueline said, “That was a good escape. We’d make great thieves.”

 

“We could spearhead our own heist, Ocean’s Eleven style.”

 

Jacqueline chuckled, walking over to the taller bookcase against the wall, gently brushing her fingers past the book spines as she read them. Jane stood back and watched her shrug the leather jacket off, and felt her knees buckle as the top she’d much admired earlier was revealed to be cut as low in the back as it was in the front. Jacqueline’s shoulder blades moved sensually, her muscles briefly tensing and relaxing with the movement of her arms as she rid of the jacket and casually draped it over a nearby chair. She turned suddenly, catching Jane just as her eyes were sweeping over her ass, and observingly said, “You have five copies of Jane Eyre.”

 

Jane blinked the momentary incapability to register words, and stammered, “Wh—yeah, every time I find a different edition I like, I get it.”

 

“Jane Eyre is my favorite.” Jacqueline smiled, turned back to the bookcase.

 

Jane gulped. “Mine, too.”

 

“Great minds,” Jacqueline replied, winking over her shoulder.

 

“Fuck,” Jane instinctively blurted under her breath.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Can I make you a drink?”

 

“I’d love a beer, if you have it.”

 

“Yep. One beer coming right up.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Jane rushed to the kitchen and straight for the fridge, grateful to have found exactly for beers left. Just as she opened the bottles and tossed the caps, her phone dinged. Kat, asking if she was home, she was bored.

 

Jane’s fingers had never moved so quickly.

 

_Don’t come over, I have someone here._

 

_Tell, please._

_I’ll tell you later. Goodnight._

 

She turned the sound off and turned her phone face down on the counter.

 

In the living room, Jacqueline had moved on to the smaller shelf where Jane kept her small vinyl collection. “They were my mom’s,” Jane informed her upon spotting her there.

 

“The well-worn sleeves kinda gave me that idea,” Jacqueline replied before looking at Jane and pointing at the bed in the corner, “is your roommate going to mind that I’m here?”

 

“Oh, that’s Sutton’s. She’s staying with Kat for a while.”

 

Jacqueline nodded, took her drink and gently clinked it to Jane’s. “To…to you and a successful future at Insight. I really liked your Kamala Harris article.”

 

“You read that?”

 

“I’ve got you on Google alert.”

 

Jane glared. “I can’t tell if you’re being facetious or not.”

 

“You’ve never been easy to compliment, Jane.” Jacqueline smirked as she flopped down on the couch. Except it was too graceful to be a flop. More like a gentle glide downwards--like a plucked feather falling. “I like your writing. I think you’re an incredibly talented, intelligent young woman. And I like keeping tabs on your work because I see a lot of myself in you.”

 

An involuntary groan escaped Jane that she attempted to muffle with the beer against her lips, but it was too late and Jacqueline was frowning.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing, I just. I wish you hadn’t said that.”

 

“What? What did I say?”

 

“That you see a lot of yourself in me, like—I don’t know.”

 

“Is that—offensive? I don’t’ understand.”

 

“No, it’s not offensive, it’s really sweet and flattering, it’s just.”

 

“It’s just what?”

 

“It just sounds like you see me in a—daughter type of way and I’m just realizing that’s not the way I want you to see me.”

 

“Oh.”

 

The silence stretched out between them. Jacqueline stared while Jane drank and anxiously shifted her weight form one foot to the other, averting her eyes and fidgeting with the label on the bottle until Jacqueline finally spoke again. “I don’t see you as a daughter, Jane.” Her tone had dropped. Jane couldn’t get herself to look at her; she just sipped and sipped as she listened. “I see you as a beautiful woman who is sometimes unsure of her own talents, but who is also confident and sure of her purpose. That is a great trait to have—it’s incredibly sexy. Is that better?”

 

Jane now glanced up. “I don’t know, I’m just struggling with something right now.”

 

“What?”

 

“I was NOT expecting to run into you tonight and I have been thinking about you a _lot_ —especially tonight, and usually, figuring out if someone is flirting with me or not isn’t a problem, no matter how much I’ve had to drink, but I’m struggling because I kind of think you’re being flirtatious, but I also know you’re married, and straight--”

 

“Who said I’m straight?”

 

Jane frowned. “Regardless! You’re married. Right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So, obviously you’re not flirting with me.”

 

“Oh, no, I am.”

 

“I— _what_?”

 

“I thought that’s what we were doing. Was that not what you were doing earlier when you were staring at my chest? And a minute ago when I was standing over there and you were ogling my ass?”

 

To mask her embarrassment, Jane chugged the remains of her drink and nodding, she put the empty bottle down on the coffee table, and then pushed her hair behind her ears before bracing her hips with both hands. “Uh, yeah. Yep—so, wait, are you gay?”

 

“Jane.” Jacqueline chuckled as she stood, “I’m sorry, I just never thought I’d see the day I’d have to explain sexual fluidity to a millennial—I am bisexual, and so is my husband. And we have an arrangement that works for both of us.”

 

Jane inhaled deeply as Jacqueline stepped intimidatingly close to her personal space. “Oh.”

 

“Are you still struggling?” Jacqueline asked. But Jane was entranced by the nearness of her body—and her mouth.

 

Jacqueline tasted of expensive lipstick, beer and exquisite relief. The transition from living room to bedroom wasn’t clear-cut but once Jane got Jacqueline in her bed and underneath her, her nerves disappeared, and so transitions mattered very little.

 

Their shoes dropped heavily on Jane’s bedroom floor, clothes were discarded with little regard and greedy hands traced paths their equally greedy mouths didn’t or couldn’t reach.

 

Straddling Jacqueline, Jane kissed along her stomach, used her tongue around her navel, her teeth on the tender skin of her inner thigh as she landed between her legs. Jacqueline moaned, her hips gently thrusting towards Jane’s mouth.

 

“Full disclosure,” Jane said between kisses, stealing glances at Jacqueline, who was flushed, panting, and beautiful. “I have actually never had sex with a woman before. I’m not saying it’s going to be bad, but, you know, just—lead the way.”

 

Jacqueline sat up then kissed Jane until she was tingling, and at pulling away, breathlessly husked, “Just play it by ear, do whatever you want.”

 

That made Jane feel dizzy. She closed her eyes, kissed Jacqueline once more, this time nipping at her bottom lip before disappearing between her legs again. The first feather light swipe of her tongue got her a shudder, the second something like a soft grunt, and the third something like a whimper, and this sent shivers down Jane’s spine. She nudged at Jacqueline’s thigh and pushing the nagging nerves way down, she thought about kissing her a moment earlier and mimicked that now. She went slowly, until she’d found a rhythm that got her the clearest response and found some confidence. She pulled Jacqueline forward and heard her gasp in what she hoped was pleasant surprise. She pushed her tongue inside her, swirled it around and flicked it upwards, which turned out to be not just a lucky guess, but also an effective one at that. Jacqueline exclaimed a colorful string of obscenities and started to downright grind herself against Jane’s mouth.

 

She was one wave of sensitive nerve endings and unabashed abandon from there. Jacqueline cursed, moaned Jane’s name, and told her where to put her fingers and what to do with her tongue. If there was a second time in their near future, Jane planned to make Jacqueline beg, but now she just wanted to give her what she wanted, and ever the quick learner, she gave it as soon as it was asked. Jacqueline came silently, her body stilling and then giving in to tiny convulsions until it was down and she gently pushed Jane’s head away with an unsteady hand and said nothing as she caught her breath, eyes closed, face hiding in her hands.

 

Jane kissed her way back up Jacqueline’s body, straddling her waist. She kissed her hands, and when they fell away, her cheeks, and barely responsive lips. The fact that she’d fucked Jacqueline Carlyle immobile was doing wonders for her ego.

 

“I thought you said you’d never done this before,” Jacqueline said.

 

Jane shrugged, “I guess I’m a natural.”

 

Jacqueline smiled and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess you are. Come here.”

 

Jacqueline kissed the way Jane had seen her run Scarlet. Like it was her job, like being less than spectacular wasn’t even an option. Jane found that she loved the feel of Jacqueline’s breasts against her own more than she would have guessed, and as she gripped the headboard and closed her eyes against all the sensations rocking her to her core, she decided perhaps the thing Jacqueline was doing to her nipple with her tongue was better. Minutes later, while she was gripping the headboard in a different position and Jacqueline used fingers, tongue mouth and what Jane could only guess was her chin, it was decided that it was all good. Whatever Jacqueline wanted to do—it was definitely all good and appreciated.

 

Just as the tingling was beginning and her chest and tummy started to feel warm however, the coaxing slowed, fingers withdrew and the dedicated laps were reduced to tender kisses that made Jane whimper. “What are you doing? Don’t stop.”

 

Glaring over her shoulder, Jane caught Jacqueline smirking as she tapped her hip and instructed her to get on her back and spread her legs.

 

“Wider,” she said, before scooting in close enough that Jane could feel the heat of her but not close enough to touch. She pressed her fingers to either side of Jane’s thighs and urged them further apart.

 

Jane gasped at the first gentle stroke of Jacqueline’s thumbs. She massaged deftly, up and down, slowly around Jane’s clit, and again, over and over in the same maddeningly pace until she was panting. Jane pushed her hips forward, spread her legs until it hurt in hopes it would urge Jacqueline to put he rout of her misery. “Just…oh my god, Jacqueline,” she moaned.

 

The last thing Jane saw before her eyes rolled back and she came so hard she was pretty sure she blacked out for a second, was Jacqueline’s confident—bordering on cocky smirk. She rode Jacqueline’s fingers through to the last shudder, opening her eyes slowly to Jacqueline now lying beside her, tenderly massaging the apex of her thigh, then her abdomen, her breast, where her hand came to finally rest as she leaned forward and pecked Jane’s lips.

 

“That was,” Jane started, took a breath, and gave Jacqueline a thumbs up. “Yeah.”

 

“Yeah,” Jacqueline chuckled and kissed Jane’s cheek, “that was fun.”

 

“That’s what I was going to say, I just—my brain is a little mushy right now.”

 

“I have to say, this is the place I would have ever thought I’d end up tonight.”

 

“Dude, same.” Jacqueline made a face at that and Jane laughed. “Sorry. No ‘dude’. Got it.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“I’m glad you snuck away. Turned out great for me.”

 

“Me, too.”

 

“So, uh,” Jane turned onto her side, facing Jacqueline as she drew lazy circles over her hip and stared freely at her breasts, “since this isn’t a conflict of interest type of deal, is it safe to assume it’s going to become a thing?”

 

“Would you like it to be a thing?” Jacqueline asked, and then gave a tiny gasp as Jane leaned forward and caught one pert nipple between her lips, sucking gently as she urged Jacqueline onto her back. “Yes, this is definitely a thing.”

 


End file.
